Mike, Go Over the Influ Enza Case
by Yesm777
Summary: Harvey's caught the flu...in a bad way. Donna appoints Mike and herself as his caretakers until further notice. Sick!Harvey.
1. Donna, Clear My Schedule for the Flu

**Disclaimer: I don't own** **_Suits. _**

_Author's Note: Soooo...this was intended to be kind of short, but...I think it had a serious growth spurt. It's now going to be a multi-chapter fic. So far, it has four chapters written out, and it's really only just begun. Oh my. I don't know how this happened, I really don't. I just hope that it's a pleasant read. So, I decided to post the first chapter, since it's done anyway. Read on and enjoy. Please review, I'd love to hear from you guys._

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**1. Donna, Clear My Schedule for the Flu**

Harvey sat in his office chair, facing the window of his office. The clouds had decided to weep that day, splattering their tears on his window in rapid succession. Rumor had it that Mike had come into work with a wet and speckled suit, which was embarrassing but not surprising. Luckily, Donna volunteered to take care of it, since Harvey didn't have the energy to care.

At first, he had supposed it was because of the rain. He woke up that morning with a sore throat he attributed to the cold outdoors, but the ache never went away, it just seemed to worsen and tighten in his neck. What was even more unusual was that as soon as he had gotten out of bed that morning, he wanted to crawl right back in. That rarely happened. He usually woke up with an immediate desire to kick ass. Well, today he wasn't that into it. Normally he'd blame the gloomy weather, but he knew it wasn't the case.

He was sick. That's all there was to it.

And as the minutes ticked by, it was only getting worse. A fever had grown in the very marrow of his bones, sizzling in his muscle to an uncomfortable degree; it made him shiver as the surrounding air drifted coldly across his neck. His head pounded angrily and his body was now afflicted with aches that were getting sharper and more prevalent. But he could easily disguise those symptoms. It was the cough that was irritating him. It was the only thing keeping him from pure secrecy. Well, maybe not pure secrecy. Donna would find out sooner or later, since she "knew all". Convincing her that he was fine would be difficult, but not impossible. He could probably pull it off. But with this cough, she'd make him go home. Ray would most definitely be in on it. And yet, for some reason, he needed to be here. He couldn't quite remember why, but he needed to be here.

"Hey, I've got those briefs you asked for."

Harvey slowly turned in his seat to face Mike, his legs suddenly softened to noodles. He stopped halfway, too tired to go the last ninety degrees. Harvey decided to roll with it.

"Good. Now start on that pile." he rasped, giving a curt nod towards a stack of paper. Mike sighed irritably and glared at his mentor and then at the stack. As he stared at the neat tower of paper, he narrowed his eyes with…something.

Suspicion.

Mike was narrowing his eyes with _suspicion_. Harvey didn't like the looks of it. He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing a finger and thumb across the lids. This day was getting steadily worse.

"You okay?"

Harvey opened his eyes, oddly surprised to find Mike staring at him. Inspecting him. Being suspicious.

"What?" he croaked, taken off guard. Harvey fought to recover himself. "Yeah, of course." Well, that was certainly a lie. His head felt like it was full of extremely dense cotton. It seemed to function the same way; the mental clockwork was a little slow in processing. Tack on the rest of the stupid inconveniences and he was well on his way to a hearty case of misery.

Harvey kept his gaze on Mike.

The kid was looking at him with his brow furrowed and his mouth slightly open, as if attempting to figure his mentor out. Harvey didn't approve.

"No, you're not." Mike reasoned, keeping that ridiculous expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

Harvey did his best to look menacing, but his powers were dampened by the raging aches bouncing around his body. Just when he'd suppressed a twitch from a rather painful ache, something decided to crawl up his throat, tickling and poking the whole way up. A cough. At just the wrong time. Harvey couldn't fight it and that was the most frustrating thing of all. He liked having control, but this illness was overpowering him. Harvey was almost ashamed by this loss.

At this most imperfect time, he coughed. Right in front of Mike. Granted, it was a small cough, but it was a cough that seemed to give Mike permission to ask _more _questions.

"Are you sick?" he inquired, raising an eyebrow. Harvey pulled a perfect look of incredibility.

"Just because I coughed? Really?" he replied with a chuckle. "Some coffee went down the wrong way a little while ago. No big deal." Harvey did his best to push his seat back towards the window, willing Mike to go away. No such luck.

"You look a little flushed. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Harvey sighed. Which was stupid. As the breath scraped up his airway, a couple more coughs slipped out, dancing away on a golden field of success. Harvey watched them escape with a dark feeling of hate.

"I'm fine." he rasped, slowly losing hope. He wasn't the type to give up, but he felt crappy enough that he wasn't even sure if he cared anymore. Hell, the coughs were starting to win. Next would be fatigue. Or maybe the aches. Either way, he wouldn't be happy about it. This was a losing battle. He was being manipulated by a personal, biological invader. Sickness. The evil of all evils. In close second came Mike's sprouting concern over his health. Usually, he would encourage the associate's attention to detail; it was a fantastic asset. Now, it was just a nuisance and a roadblock in the way of fooling Donna...or whoever else didn't need to know he was sick. Like Mike.

A freezing hand was practically slapped across his forehead, startling Harvey into gasping deeply. Needless to say, a family of coughs accompanied the breath out of his lungs, bringing a few friends and their pooch.

"You're fine, huh?" Mike murmured, removing his hand from his mentor's forehead and moving into Harvey's view. "Feels like a fever to me. And you're whole coffee excuse is not going to cover your coughs."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'm fine." Harvey mumbled. "I just have good circulation and coffee sticks in the airway for a little while."

Mike tilted his head as he gave Harvey a look. Harvey pursed his lips and glared back.

"Fine, believe whatever you want, but don't dump your delusions on Donna." Harvey growled, nearly holding his breath in an attempt to suppress a cough. Mike gave him a knowing smirk.

"You're just afraid she'll force you to go home." the associate chuckled, finding humor in the fact that his mentor was secretly intimidated by Donna's manipulative tactics. Although, Mike couldn't blame him.

"Not afraid. Just looking to avoid such a…situation." Harvey corrected, looking very serious. He was rather entertained by watching Donna in all her manipulative glory, but less pleased when she used her tactics on him. They were unbelievably effective. Resistance was futile as soon as she sunk her teeth into her prey and, today, he did not want to be that prey.

"Well, if you don't want her to find out, then I suggest you wipe the sweat off your face." Mike muttered, glancing out of the office. Harvey rolled his eyes, pulling a handkerchief from within his suit jacket and quickly swiping it over his face.

"What've you got anyway?" Mike asked nonchalantly, watching his mentor with a casual interest.

"How the hell should I know?" Harvey grumbled, tucking the handkerchief back in his jacket. "And I honestly don't care." Mike observed the senior partner with interest, wondering how sick the man really was. He certainly didn't look well. To add, his voice was getting more gravelly with each minute, no thanks to the coughs that escaped the hold of Harvey's lungs. It didn't take a genius to see he was ill. Mike guessed that he was probably _quite_ ill, but unwilling to admit it to anyone. As expected.

Harvey's arm suddenly twitched with a rather harsh flicker. Mike narrowed his eyes in concern.

"What?" Harvey snapped, attempting to disguise the twitch with excessive fidgeting. Mike was unconvinced.

"What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That."

"What?"

Mike stopped, glaring at his mentor. Harvey still held his powerful voice and demeanor, but it was a bit weakened by his scratchy voice and sickly features.

"You know what."

Harvey sunk comfortably into his chair, giving Mike his best fake smile.

"Why are you still in my office?"

Mike's shoulders slumped in irritation as his face formed a look of exasperation. He didn't want to do this to Harvey, but he was beginning to worry about his mentor. If Mike couldn't get past the man's defenses, he'd have to provide someone who could.

"I'll tell Donna." he threatened. "That's assuming she hasn't been listening in already. Which I kind of doubt, or else you'd already be under house arrest."

Harvey gave him a dark expression.

"Not fair."

Mike shrugged.

"Never said it was."

Harvey stared at him for a long while, hoping the kid would crumble. Luck just wasn't on his side today.

"What do you want?" he mumbled, scowling heartily. This sickness deal sucked. He was losing every battle of the day, and that was just shameful.

"What was that…twitch thing?" Mike asked, pointing at Harvey's arm. Harvey sighed slowly, only coughing a couple times in the process.

"It was just an ache. It happens." Harvey murmured. Mike furrowed his brow, quickly reaching out to touch Harvey's forehead.

"What're you doing?" Harvey demanded, swatting his associate's hand away.

"Do you have a thermometer?"

Harvey gave Mike a look of irritated confusion.

"Why would I have a thermometer in my _office_?" he growled, reaching for his handkerchief a second time.

"Well, I don't know." Mike replied with annoyance. "I don't know why you have razors in your office either, but you whipped one out like it was a normal office supply."

"You should be happy I had one. You desperately needed a shave." Harvey mumbled, wiping the fabric square across his face as he blinked heavily.

"Look, Harvey, maybe you should go home and get some rest." Mike muttered, scratching his head nervously. He didn't usually make a habit of telling Harvey what to do, but the guy looked pretty bad. Plus, that fever seemed to be getting slightly out of hand for an office environment. A disposable razor was not going to get rid of a fever. Neither would Harvey's handkerchief.

"No, I'm not going home. I'm fine." Harvey replied angrily, spinning his chair towards his desk. He was getting a little lightheaded, but he didn't think it was anything to have a fit about. Harvey tried to focus on the briefs, but he was so tired. His eyes seemed to pulse with the pain of his headache, rippling with fatigue and a hefty desire to drift to sleep. No, he had work to do. This was ridiculous.

"I hate being sick." he grumbled, squinting as he put all his effort into reading.

"So, you admit you're sick." Mike said with a touch of victory, only annoying Harvey more. Harvey looked up at him, resisting the sudden dizzy feeling in his head.

"Go away." he muttered, the heat of irritation fresh on his lips. Mike stood there like a startled child, but quickly collected himself and began to move towards the door. Harvey blinked against the dizzying buzz in his skull, trying to chase away the uncomfortable urge to pass out on his desk. He stopped trying to read and put the briefs down, leaning back in his chair as he breathed deeper to chase away the faint feeling in his head. This was bad. The sickness was winning. But, for the moment, he was very content with slumping in his chair and basically being a huffing pile of mush.

"Harvey?"

He looked up to see Mike. The kid looked concerned.

"What?" he breathed, flinching as an ache flitted across his cheekbone. He didn't like the aches. He didn't like coughing either. He also didn't like headaches, chills and dizziness, but that's what he had and it was all extremely irritating. Damn fevers and coughs.

"Frankly, you look like you're going to pass out." Mike replied, pursing his lips as he watched his mentor.

Harvey certainly _felt_ like he was going to pass out. But that wasn't the point here.

"I stayed up late." he supplied swiftly, struggling to sit up properly in his chair.

"Come on, Harvey. Now you're just being stubborn. This isn't a case to win, this is your health. You should _go home_." Mike hissed, putting his hands on Harvey's desk as he leaned forward. "With one look in here, Donna's going to know what's up. It's only a matter of time. _Go home_. You look like a dead guy." Harvey mulled the thought slowly in his mind. _Very_ slowly. It seemed his cerebral pathways were stuffed with molasses. Out of mere lack of proper activity, he was distracted by another ache in his hip and a growing pulse in his head. Eventually all the thoughts came together and he made a decision.

"Fine." Harvey grumbled. He struggled to get the next words out of his mouth. "But I'll need some help downstairs." His voice was nearly a whisper, extremely embarrassed by his moment of weakness. Apparently, he was due for another lesson in humility.

Mike was at a complete lack for words. Harvey wasn't sure if it was because the kid was shocked by his easy submission, or if it was because Harvey actually admitted he needed help. Harvey could hardly believe it himself.

"I'll talk to Donna." Mike finally said, practically power walking towards the redhead's desk. Harvey watched with hazy eyes, suddenly finding himself extremely miserable. Now he actually _wanted_ to go home. He was sick. He was really, really sick. Harvey could scarcely find the energy to be sitting upright in his office chair.

He blinked, willing to chase away the fog in his eyes, but he didn't need high definition to see Donna's red hair. She was approaching…at a somewhat intimidating speed.

"Harvey, how sick are you?" she demanded, the question flattened and lacking proper inflection. He grimaced and rubbed at his eyes, trying to focus on her as much as he could. She raised her eyebrows menacingly.

"Harvey." she growled. He sighed…and coughed.

"Sick, alright?" he croaked, swallowing down another cough. Donna wasn't satisfied.

"_How_ sick, Harvey?"

He was quiet for a moment, looking at Mike behind her. Mike shook his head, indicating that he shouldn't resist.

"Maybe really sick. Is it really a big deal?" he mumbled, putting his elbows on his desk and leaning forward.

"Yes, Harvey. It's a big deal. When you're sick, I'd like to be the first to know about it. Not Mike. Because then it gives me more time to reschedule all your appointments and rearrange your agenda." she replied, clearly frustrated.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you'd be a little more concerned by the news." Harvey murmured. She was probably just angry because she wasn't the first to know.

"I am concerned, Harvey. In fact, I am so concerned, I'm sending Mike home with you to make sure you get better."

Mike looked shocked by this information, wondering when and how he had been assigned such a gruesome task.

"What? I don't need—"

"Harvey. Let's face it. You need help. And since I'll be busy rescheduling and rearranging, Mike will see to all your needs." Donna explained, her polite—yet menacing—smile peeking out towards the end. "I'll call Ray." She turned on her heel and headed back to her desk, a shimmering sparkle of terror in her wake.

Harvey looked at Mike.

Mike looked at Harvey.

"I'm only letting you come with me because Donna said so." Harvey mumbled.

"And I'm only following you because Donna said so."

Harvey narrowed his eyes.

"Good, I'm glad that's established."

There was an awkward silence as Donna chattered into the phone.

"But, if you need anything just ask." Mike offered. Harvey glared.

"I'm fine. It's just a bug, I'll get over it."

There was another bout of silence as Mike fidgeted where he stood. Certainly, he had never been prepared for this situation, nor had he even expected it. He was pretty sure "taking care of a sick Harvey" hadn't been in the job description. Not that he really knew what it said. He kind of skipped that process after all.

He watched Harvey with a nervous eye.

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_Author's Note: Hm. First chapter. Good start, I hope. Please review, I'd like to see what you think._


	2. Harvey, You Have a Banishment at 10:00

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Suits. _**

_Author's Note: Wow! What nice reviews! Now I kind of feel pressured...haha...I hope I don't disappoint. To be honest, I kind of just get into this mindset where I temporarily take on the persona of the characters while I write. Kind of like actors, I guess? I simply just write what comes to mind and how I think a character would react and stuff. I just hope I'm being accurate.  
_

_Also, I was innocently sitting in my desk chair last night when I spotted a dead spider on my windowsill. At first, I freaked out, then I realized it had passed on...and I have this weird thinking where I really don't like bugs and spiders, but I also don't like killing them. So, even though I would've been afraid of the spider if it was alive, I still mourned its death and the fact that I had to pinch it in a tissue and throw it in the garbage can. And as I carefully picked it up in the tissue, I had a strange thought: if there should be a zombie apocalypse, will spiders be zombified as well? Because that would suck. Food for thought. I don't believe in the coming of the zombie apocalypse and I usually avoid the subject, but...food for thought just the same._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy the next chapter. I'll try and post quickly and I sincerely hope you all love it until the end. Enjoy and review!_

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**2. Harvey, You Have a Banishment at 10:00**

The guy really looked sick. To be honest, Harvey looked like he was barely holding it together. Especially as he dropped his head into his hands with a shiver, listing a bit to the side.

"Are you sure you're okay? You sure don't look it." Mike stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. Harvey groaned, burying his head deeper into his hands.

"I don't want to talk about it." Harvey growled, sitting up as he wiped a hand across his brow. Mike raised his eyebrows.

"That bad, huh? We've gone from 'fine' to 'not talking about it' in less than two minutes."

Harvey glared at him, breathing somewhat deeply as he blinked heavily. Mike didn't like the foggy look in his mentor's eyes and he wasn't pleased by Harvey's forced stiffness. The man was determined to stay upright, no matter how poorly he felt.

"Come on, big guy. Ray will be downstairs soon." Donna announced, walking into the office with that same, powerful air of hers. "Mike, help me get him up."

Mike looked at her for a moment before moving into action. Donna gripped one of Harvey's arms beneath the shoulder while Mike took the other. With a heave, Donna and Mike pulled Harvey up, only getting halfway before Harvey spoke.

"Wait, wait, wait." Harvey rasped, squeezing his eyes shut. "I need a minute. Just a minute." Donna shot Mike a look of irritation before they lowered Harvey back into his seat. Harvey put a hand to his head while he took a deep breath, the sweat glistening on his forehead like a bad omen. Mike was beginning to wonder if his mentor had the plague.

"Okay." Harvey croaked, staring at his desk. He was obviously embarrassed about this, but also certain he needed the help. He could almost hear the fever cackling as it drained his energy. It was a mistake to come to work at all.

Donna didn't say a word, she merely tugged Harvey up while Mike hurried to match her movements. As they pulled Harvey to a standing position, Mike watched him carefully, a little concerned when the man started to breathe deep, even breaths. When he was upright, Harvey's face pulled into a determined expression. He looked like he was fighting the urge to collapse. Donna placed her hands on his chest and back just to be sure, but she was starting to look a little worried herself. She moved one hand to his forehead, yet he seemed too dazed to notice.

"Alrighty. Mike, you want to help him out while I grab his things?" she asked sweetly with an edge of demand. Mike moved to support Harvey, placing a firm hold on his mentor's arm with the other hand on his back. Harvey looked like he was coming back to his senses, but still quite miserable.

"Did I mention that I hate being sick?" he growled, trying his best to maintain enough balance and strength to move.

"I figured you did anyway." Mike mumbled with a smirk, walking Harvey slowly out of the office. Harvey seemed to be able to maintain most of his proud demeanor, but anyone could tell he was ill. He was starting to cough more often, doing his best to hold them back. People tried not to stare, and those who did got a stern look from Harvey. Mike had to hand it to him; Harvey could still intimidate, even when his face was flushed with fever and sparkling with sweat. That took real skill.

Donna followed behind the two, giving her own brand of glares to onlookers and carrying Harvey's briefcase like it was possibly the most important task known to all mankind.

As they reached the elevator, Mike reached out and pressed the button while Donna spoke to Harvey.

"After I handle all your appointments, I'll go pick up a few things from Mike's apartment and some meds to bring over. I'll stop by as soon as I can." she explained professionally. "And, Harvey?" She waited until he looked at her. "Let Mike help you. You're in bad shape."

"Yeah, yeah…" he grumbled. Mike looked at Donna.

"How will you get into my apartment?" he asked, suspicious.

Donna smiled evilly.

"I have my ways, young one. I have my ways." she whispered, pleased by her own wickedness. Mike shivered.

There was a heavy quiet as they waited for the elevator. Mike was relieved to hear the pleasant ding of arrival.

He helped Harvey into the elevator, settling him against the wall for extra support. Harvey immediately rested his head against the cool corner of the elevator, his hands gripped tightly to the hand railing.

"Mike."

Mike tore his eyes from white knuckles to look at Donna.

"Make sure he doesn't do something stupid and get him to bed." she ordered. Mike scrunched up his nose.

"Donna, I don't swing that way." he mumbled in a hushed tone. She pursed her lips.

"Watch him, Mike. I'll keep Harvey's briefcase so he doesn't try and work. Call me if things get worse."

She turned away from the elevator, walking swiftly as the doors closed. Mike stood awkwardly in the middle of the small space for a bit, then took the corner opposite of Harvey.

"So…looks like it's just you and me." Mike muttered, calmly observing the innards of the elevator. He glanced at Harvey for a moment, trying not to suffocate the man, but he really was worried. Harvey was staring straight ahead, his lips pressed to a thin line and his eyebrows slightly furrowed with pinched discomfort.

"I _really_ don't feel well." Harvey grumbled, flinching as his shoulder twitched. A shiver followed close behind, as well as a heavy sigh and a few wheezy coughs. Mike watched Harvey, concerned.

"Finally, Harvey Specter admits his weakness." Mike chuckled, trying to make the mood lighter. The air was heavy with an awkward feeling, brought on by the unusual situation. Harvey hardly asked for help. And, if he had to, he didn't like it. This whole thing was probably a nightmare for him.

"What's going on, Harvey? Tell me your symptoms." Mike sighed, sneaking a peek at his mentor. Harvey took a deep breath, clinging ever tighter to the hand railing. He looked reluctant to reply, but miserable enough that he'd crack.

"Lightheadedness comes first to mind." Harvey ground out, clenching his jaw irritably. "Then there's the headache, the aches, the weakness…and then the sore throat and the coughs." Harvey sighed, coughing out a few wheezes. Mike nodded his head slowly, watching the numbers count down above the door.

"How bad?" he asked, letting the digits run freely through his mind. Harvey didn't even glance in his direction, doing his best to stare at the wall in front of him.

"Bad." Harvey muttered. He sounded a little angry. Kind of like when a case was going poorly. That was never a good thing.

The elevator slid open with a ping, setting another challenge before the two lawyers: getting Harvey to the car. Harvey took a deep breath in preparation, looking at Mike with determination. Mike reluctantly got into position to support Harvey, unsure if he was okay with Harvey's new wheezy breath. The sound made him uncomfortable. It really put a noise to Harvey's suffering; it made him seem more vulnerable. Mike didn't like thinking that Harvey could be weak. Ever. He usually looked to Harvey to help him; he had never thought things would be flipped. Yeah, maybe it was just some flu, but it was overpowering Harvey and that was just upsetting to watch.

"I think you owe me for this, Harvey." Mike muttered, trying to support Harvey as discreetly as possible. He knew how obsessed his mentor was with appearances and it was the least Mike could do to help the man not feel entirely hopeless.

"You work for me, I don't owe you anything." Harvey growled, driven to surly behavior as he struggled through the peopled lobby. Maybe he should've hid in his office until after hours. That way, he could slip out unnoticed.

"Actually, I think this constitutes a favor." Mike replied, a small smile in his voice. "I'm pretty sure this isn't included in the responsibilities of my job."

"Then how would you categorize having a tea party with dolls?" Harvey rasped, smirking weakly as they pushed through the front doors. Ray was already at the curb, pulling the door open in the soft rain. Harvey thanked heaven for dependable drivers.

"That was different. It was for a client, so it's still job related."

"And this is for your boss, so it's still job related."

Mike was silent for a moment.

"Well, that was just cheap."

"That's why I'm lawyer." Harvey chuckled, coughing a bit as they reached Ray. Raindrops melted into their suits and peppered their exposed skin, mocking their situation. The driver pulled a worried expression as he faced the lawyer, moving to help maneuver the man into the car if necessary.

"Are you alright, Harvey? Donna said you were sick." Ray explained, watching Mike lower his mentor into the back seat. Harvey looked like he could use a long nap and a lot of meds. Maybe a little soup would help too, but Ray was starting to wonder if Harvey needed actual medical help.

"I'll be fine, Ray. Just take us to my place." Harvey croaked, grimacing as he swallowed. Ray shut the door as soon as Harvey was in, looking to Mike for any other information. The associate just threw up his hands with a sigh, obviously exasperated by his boss, but also a little worried. Ray supposed that Harvey wasn't the most pleasant sick person to be around.

Mike slid in the other door as Ray got into the driver's seat, setting his mental course to Harvey's apartment. He glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as Mike silently observed his mentor, as if waiting for a complete shutdown.

Ray drove as quickly as he could.

* * *

"I really don't need you to baby me." Harvey grumbled, as he leaned on Mike. Mike tried to hold back a laugh.

"And he says this as he's using me for a walking stick." he muttered under his breath, smiling to himself. Harvey may have been sick, but it didn't seem to affect his hearing.

"You don't have to help if you don't want." he growled. "I never asked you to anyway."

Mike smirked.

"If I recall correctly, you did tell me in the office that you 'needed a little help.' That sounds a lot like asking to me."

Harvey was quiet, now distracted by wave of embarrassment as he tried to remember if he had, in fact, said that. Something told him he did, but he couldn't quite recollect. Maybe his mind was trying to block out all the bad memories.

"Besides, Donna will shove me into a wood chipper if I leave you here. You'd probably pass out before you got to the door anyway." Mike sighed, gazing down the hall at Harvey's door. "Then she would really have my head."

"You worry too much, kid." Harvey rasped, holding back a few coughs. He was leaning more and more on Mike, his vision graying slightly as the colors blended into a vague image. Harvey had been upright too long and his head was getting heavier and heavier.

"Where's your key?" Mike asked as they drew closer to the door. Harvey reached his weak fingers into his pocket while Mike stretched his spare hand over to receive. Harvey's hand practically dropped into Mike's own, slapping the keys into the palm of the associate's hand. Mike didn't fail to notice the lack of strength.

Mike did his best to open the door with one hand, a bit frightful as Harvey slipped into a coughing fit and practically clung to Mike for support. Harvey had gone past the stage of embarrassment into a phase of need. All he needed right now was to get to bed. After that, he couldn't care less what happened. He just needed Mike to help him to bed before he passed out.

"Could you hurry it up?" Harvey wheezed, coughing into his arm.

"I'm trying to go as fast as I can. Didn't your parents ever teach you patience?" Mike replied with a frustrated tone. He finally managed to get the door open, dragging his mentor inside.

"Why would I need patience? I get what I want without it." Harvey whispered, his eyelids drooping to a dangerous level. He stumbled in stride with Mike, trying to hold on to his strength for a little longer. Mike had never really been inside Harvey's apartment, but he figured he knew where the bedroom was. The place looked expensive, but simple enough to navigate through.

"It would've been nice if you didn't come to work today." Mike huffed, adjusting his hold on his mentor as he helped him along.

"I'm sorry to disappoint." Harvey spat weakly with a cough.

"Haven't you ever called in sick to work?"

"How do you think I made senior partner?"

Mike guessed that was a no.

He finally lugged Harvey into the bedroom, sitting his mentor down on the edge of the bed. Harvey just looked at him with an expectant look.

"What?" Mike asked, looking around him for some kind of answer.

"Well, I can't just sleep in this suit."

Mike scowled.

"Then where's your pajamas?" he groused. Harvey gave him another look, despite being brushed over with an ominous cloud of ill.

"You make it sound like I'm a little kid."

"Well, where I'm standing, you _are_ a little kid."

Harvey was quiet with a death glare.

"In the top right drawer." he muttered, watching Mike irritably as the kid approached his dresser. "Just get me the Harvard shirt and some pajama bottoms. Then you can leave."

Mike tossed the clothes to Harvey and shot him a look.

"I'll be out in the living room." he growled, stalking out of the bedroom and closing the door.

Harvey let out a soft sigh, falling back onto the mattress and blankets to take a moment of rest. He was so tired. Extremely tired. But he'd rather lose a case against Louis than have his associate help him get dressed. And he was _not _going to let Mike tuck him into bed like a baby. He was a grown man. He could do this by himself. Yes, he was very sick, but not enough to give up his dignity like a sacrifice. He would function by himself.

Slowly, Harvey got dressed, leaving his suit on the floor. He was going to hang it up and everything, but he didn't have the energy. He didn't even have the energy to get all the way into bed. Harvey dropped onto the edge of the bed, only to fall back onto the blankets with a dizzy skull. It wasn't necessary to get under the covers anyway; they were really only a luxury invented by mankind. He was perfectly comfortable with his calves dangling over the side of the bed and lying horizontally across it. Even his eyes agreed as they drifted closed with a happy sigh, the aches and shivers fading in the background.

"Harvey."

Harvey's eyes fluttered open, the aches coming back with a slap and a punch while a shiver shuddered up his spine. Mike was watching him from the end of the bed, his brow furrowed in something like a mixture of concern and irritation.

"Harvey, you need to get in bed."

"I am in bed." he croaked, mentally sinking further into the blankets.

"No, you're _on_ the bed. You need to get _in_ the bed." Mike pressed, helping his mentor stand up as he folded over the sheets and blankets. "Now, get in bed and I'll get a thermometer. Where do you keep your thermometer?"

Harvey vaguely realized that this counted as Mike tucking him into bed. He didn't like the thought, but he did his best to ignore it and move on in life.

"I don't remember." Harvey mumbled, dropping back to the edge of the bed as he slowly slipped under the covers.

"You don't remember? Do you even have one?"

Harvey stopped to think about that one, already melting into the pillow and blankets.

"I don't know." he mumbled, welcoming the slumbering demon as it wafted through his body. His associate gripped his shoulder, shaking him a little to keep him conscious. Usually Harvey was very good at ignoring Mike, but the kid seemed extra annoying today. He just wanted sleep.

"You're an irritating sick person, you know that?" Mike growled with a heavy sigh. Harvey took a deep breath, coughing heavily with the exhale.

"And you're an irritating caregiver."

Mike let out another huff, his footsteps practically stomping out of the room while Harvey sunk further into his bed. He shivered as another pulse of aches surged through his muscles, ultimately throbbing in his skull. The blankets suddenly became old friends as Harvey pulled them tighter around himself, gripping them with a new appreciation. He was too tired to really gauge how terrible he felt, but if the flashes of feverish pain were anything to go by, he was really in for a treat.

For now, he'd just focus on sleeping.

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_Author's Note: Hope it was a fun read. This is just how I kind of imagine Harvey to act if he's miserable/sick enough. Thanks for reading. Please leave a review!_


	3. Mike, I Don't Pay You for Babying

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Suits._**

_Author's Note: Well, it looks like they have comments now and not reviews. Although, I'm not really sure how it works yet...? I just noticed that I received a comment and not a review. Although-let's be honest-reviews were just comments anyway...mostly...  
_

_Okay, here's the third chapter. I'm sorry if it's going slow for you guys, but all this stuff was just coming out of my head. Thanks for reading the story so far and leaving all your nice reviews/comments. :) Enjoy!_

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**3. Mike, I Don't Pay You for Babying**

"_How's Harvey?"_

Mike was leaning against the kitchen counter, staring at the ceiling with Donna's voice in his ear. She was curt and business-like, as usual, not allowing any room for Mike's complaints and explanations of annoyance.

"He's sleeping right now." he mumbled, scrubbing the side of his face. "Do you know if he has a thermometer?"

_"Why didn't you ask Harvey? He would know." _she muttered, the sound of computer keys clacking in the background. Mike rolled his eyes and slowly walked towards the couch.

"I did ask. He said he didn't even know if he had one." Mike murmured, running a hand through his hair as he watched one foot step in front of the other. "So, I thought I'd ask you just in case."

_"Despite what you think, Mike, I'm not some creepy stalker that digs through people's stuff. It's too much work. That's why I listen in on meetings and conversations." _Donna explained, sounding rather serious. _"But I suggest you look through Harvey's bathroom drawers. If he's got one, it'll be in there somewhere."_

"Yeah, okay." Mike groused, sitting on the arm of the couch as he inspected his fingernails. They needed clipping. "How long do you think you'll be?"

_"Whenever I finish working miracles…and Louis gets off my back."_

Mike could hear Louis's fast-paced speech in the background, probably inquiring after the mysterious disappearance of Harvey Specter. Odds were that he already knew what happened, he just wanted the satisfaction of hearing Donna say it out loud. Of course Louis would be thrilled to have Harvey out for even a day. He'd probably count it as a victory to a nonexistent battle about who had a better immune system. Then he would formulate some speech about how that qualified him for a senior partner or some other equally ridiculous scheme.

_"I'll be there within the hour." _she said firmly, hanging up with a click. Mike would be offended, but with Donna…he just couldn't be. It was just how she was and he respected her enough to let her be without any complaint. Besides, even though she was somewhat curt and sarcastic, she was still nicer than a lot of the other people at the firm. For that, he'd let her hang up without a proper farewell. Not that he would confront her about it anyway. He wasn't suicidal after all.

Mike pushed himself off the arm of the couch and headed towards Harvey's bathroom to search for the thermometer. He might as well let his mentor sleep for a little while; it might help Harvey look a little less dead and a little more alive. So far, Harvey didn't seem ill enough to give up his usual snarky attitude, which Mike counted as a good thing. Well, a good thing in terms of the illness, but Mike was getting a little fed up with it. In the professional realm, he didn't mind Harvey's stubborn, irritating demeanor, considering it was very effective in their line of work. But when it came to the dealings of sickness, it really just got in the way and made things harder for the people trying to help. Namely, Mike.

Mike wandered into the bathroom, trying not to be distracted by the mere awesomeness of the place. It was, at least, forty times better than his own dinky bathroom and probably a hundred times more expensive. Maybe someday Mike would be just as lucky, but not today. Today he was looking for a thermometer.

He rifled through the drawers, trying not to mess them up too much since they were organized in a tidy fashion. If Harvey was meticulous with his suits, it made sense that he would be so with his other possessions. But, between his wandering eye and effort to keep each drawer tidy, it took Mike a good while to get through the large bathroom. He eventually found the thermometer, hidden in the back of a drawer, looking abandoned and lonely. He supposed he'd go check on Harvey, but wait for Donna to wake him up. She was probably better at all this than he was.

Mike tread carefully into the bedroom, careful not to wake the sleeping tiger. He inched closer and closer, unsure if the curled up lump was really his boss. He never thought of Harvey as the type to snuggle up to his blankets like a kid. Not even when he was sick. To be honest, Mike never thought about Harvey's sleeping habits anyway, but if he did, he didn't think of the man as a curler. Just something more…masculine. And maybe Harvey slept like a true closer of New York City on any other day. Maybe it was just _this_ day with _this _illness. It was still odd to see.

And as Mike stepped closer, he could see the sweat collected on Harvey's face, crowding on the skin like tourists on a Honolulu beach day. The man's hair was already rumpled and loosened from its usual sleek style, giving Harvey the look of a much younger man. Mike wasn't sure what to think of this Harvey. He was different from the powerful lawyer Mike understood. In this form, Harvey seemed much more vulnerable and child-like. Mike had the stupid idea that Harvey had never been a child. Sure, his mentor had a certain playful demeanor to him, but it still held the air of a man that knew all, not the naivety of a child. From where Mike stood, Harvey had never been innocent, gullible or inexperienced and, therefore, had never been a child. But, here he was, looking more like a kid than Mike thought was possible.

Mike tilted his head as he observed his sleeping boss, wondering if there was some secret side to Harvey that he had never seen. The one that held his childhood. And his compassion. And maybe most of his other…softer feelings. But that side had to be deep, deep, _deep_ within Harvey's soul, at the very bottom of a sea of determination and power. Mike shrugged to himself.

He was just about to return to his perch in the front rooms when Harvey flinched, furrowing his brow into a somewhat painful expression. He began grumbling in his sleep, sounding like the stubborn Harvey Mike knew, but with a shade of fear and heartbreak. Mike couldn't hear a word, but the sound was enough to tell him that Harvey was having a bad dream. Mike began to wonder if he should wake Harvey, but thought that maybe his mentor would only be angry with him for disturbing his sleep. It was becoming a ridiculous battle within his thoughts, clashing together weakly as he ran considerations across his mind to support either side.

"Oh, whatever." he muttered, reaching his hand out and lightly shaking Harvey. "Harvey. Hey, Harvey."

Harvey's eyes snapped open and stared straight ahead. He looked more tired than he had before, his eyes glazed over with a thick weariness while the skin surrounding them held a dark tint. After a little while, Harvey looked up at Mike, relaxing a little as his pupils settled on the associate.

"Bad dream?" Mike asked, holding the thermometer idly in his hand. Harvey blinked heavily, his eyes roving lazily about the room.

"I don't remember." he grumbled, loosening a hand from the covers to swipe over his face. Mike shook his head as he tugged the plastic casing off the thermometer.

"You literally just woke up. Dreams don't disappear _that_ fast." he muttered, pressing the button on the tiny device and inspecting the small screen. Harvey stayed quiet for a moment, laying back on his pillow as he stared at the ceiling.

"Maybe they do." Harvey croaked, swallowing with a dazed look in his eyes. Mike wanted to press further, but it was obvious that Harvey was trying to avoid the contents of his dream as much as possible. It definitely wasn't Mike's place to poke, so he'd let it go. Maybe he'll ask Donna later.

"Open up." he sighed, holding the thermometer close to Harvey's face. Harvey just stared at him from the corner of his eye, his face immediately pulled in a bothered expression.

"Where did you get that?" he demanded, his strong, stubborn attitude fighting through the blanket of illness. Mike rolled his eyes, wondering how Donna could deal with such a bullheaded person day in and day out. Sure, Mike had his fair share of Harvey's presence, but Donna certainly had to deal with the man more often.

"From your bathroom. Where do you think?" Mike replied, moving the device closer to Harvey's face. Harvey shoved his head further into the pillow with a sour expression.

"I'm not putting that in my face. I don't know where it's been."

Mike closed his eyes and counted down from ten.

"It's been in your bathroom this whole time. That's where it's been. Now, put it in your mouth and under your tongue." he urged. Harvey stared at him like he was the plague itself.

"No."

Mike threw his hands in the air, looking to the heavens for guidance.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to, that's why. I don't have to explain myself to you; you're _my _associate."

That card again. Harvey really needed to find new excuses.

"Yeah, and Donna is _your_ secretary, but that won't stop her from kicking your ass if you don't put this friggin' thermometer in your mouth." Mike threatened, narrowing his eyes menacingly. "And she'll be here soon, so put this in your mouth or you'll have to face Donna's wrath."

Harvey watched him carefully, reaching out slowly to take the thermometer.

"I don't like that you can use Donna against me."

"I wouldn't have to if you actually did what I asked." Mike replied, huffing as he folded his arms. Harvey stuck the thermometer in his mouth, glaring at his associate while he waited for the beep.

_Beep_.

Mike snatched the thermometer out of his mentor's mouth, reading the screen immediately.

One-hundred-one. Not really the best temperature for human beings.

"Thank you, Harvey, for being agreeable for once in your life." Mike said cheerily, giving Harvey a winning smile before he walked out of the bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Harvey called weakly, coughing amid every word.

"I'm calling Donna." Mike replied, stepping out of the bedroom door with the thermometer still in his hand. Harvey's coughs echoed around the contemporary bedroom, his wheezes quiet, but still lasting. Mike didn't hesitate to dial the number.

_"He hasn't died, has he?"_

"What? No, he hasn't died."

_"Then why are you calling me? I told you I would be there within the hour. Half the hour is up. I thought you could figure out the math with that freaky head of yours. You didn't need to call me."_

"Well, I thought you'd want to know that Harvey has a temp of one-oh-one." he mumbled, listening to the quiet coughs from the bedroom.

_"How did you weasel that out of him?"_

Mike smirked to himself.

"I threatened him with your rage." he chuckled. He could almost hear her smile on the other end.

_"It is always delightful to know my power has no bounds." _

Mike laughed, imagining her usual smooth mask with a hint of a smile swimming beneath.

"Also, would you happen to know if Harvey has nightmares when he has a fever?"

Donna was quiet for a moment, the hum of an engine in the background and a rustling of fabric.

_"Why? Did he tell you he had one?"_

"No. Why would Harvey tell _me _that? He won't even put a thermometer in his mouth if I ask him to."

_"Then how do you know he had a nightmare?"_

"I just…noticed some…discomfort while he was sleeping. It seemed like a bad dream to me."

Donna sighed, something like irritation spilling from her breath.

_"I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't call me again unless Harvey is dead or dying."_

_ Click_.

Gone again. Without proper answers.

Mike stared at his phone in his hand, pursing his lips as he heard another coughing fit in the other room. Yeah, Harvey was pretty annoying when he was sick, but Mike couldn't help but worry about the man. Harvey was sick. Really, really sick. And Mike had a bad feeling that it was only going to get worse.

Although, Harvey was doing a great job at appearing slightly healthier than he really was. The only thing that betrayed his snarky cover-up was the dazed look in his eyes and his obvious exhaustion. But, even with his heavy fever and constant cough and wheeze act, Harvey still held up a bit of a fight.

Mike heard some grumbling from the bedroom, Harvey's voice drifting through a string of blurred words. Knowing Harvey, it was probably a bunch of curses and threats aimed at his own illness. Unfortunately, flus don't respond to threats, legal or not.

Mike headed back towards the bedroom, unsure of what else he could do while he waited for Donna. Plus, it couldn't hurt to keep an eye on the sick guy.

As he entered the bedroom, Harvey was lying on his back with his eyes closed, the occasional cough sending a lurch throughout his body.

"How's Donna?"

Harvey's voice was raspy and scraped, quickly losing volume and substance.

"She's…on her way. How are _you_ doing?" Mike inquired, watching his mentor closely.

"I'm fine." Harvey groaned. Mike rolled his eyes and took a few steps closer.

"Yeah, sure. I'm starting to worry about how you define the word 'fine'."

Harvey didn't reply. His eyes were still closed, his brow furrowed while he breathed through a slightly open mouth. His energy and stubbornness was waning, leaving a very spent Harvey amid the rumpled sheets. He actually looked pretty pathetic.

"The firm doesn't pay you to question my internal dictionary." Harvey sighed. He brought a hand to his face, pressing it against his eyes as he took a few deep breaths.

"I'm pretty sure the firm doesn't pay me to babysit you either."

"Well, I never asked you to stay."

Mike let out a laugh.

"No, _Donna_ asked me to stay, and in my book she outranks you in power and intimidation."

Harvey peeked at his associate from between his fingers.

"You've got me there."

The two of them were silent for a while as Mike took a seat on the edge of the bed. He might as well stay there until Donna shows up, just in case Harvey needed something in the next few minutes. Although, he did feel a little awkward.

Harvey slung an arm over his eyes, letting out a groan.

"Louis will never let me hear the end of this."

Mike tried his best not to smile, hiding the small pull on his lips as he brushed a hand over his upper lip.

"Maybe I can convince Donna to blackmail him somehow so he won't bother you." he offered, watching as Harvey smirked a bit. "She does know a ridiculous amount of embarrassing secrets."

"Truer words have never been spoken." Harvey chuckled, the crook of his arm still covering his face. Mike smiled as another thought occurred to him.

"How many embarrassing things does Donna know about _you_?"

Harvey lifted his arm a little, giving Mike a pointed look.

"Don't even think about it." he said in a low tone, narrowing his eyes. He replaced the arm over his eyes and settled back into his pillow. "But, off the record, she probably knows enough to ruin my reputation with the partners a million times over."

"That's a little terrifying. As a lawyer, I advise you not to make her mad."

"Yeah, and as a lawyer, I actually wrote up an agreement for her to sign. She was reluctant, but she signed it."

Mike nodded approvingly.

"Smart move."

"That's why they pay me."

The two sat in silence again, satisfied with the completion of their conversation. Harvey's breathing was getting deeper and even, but still coated with a raspy touch. Mike glanced over, sighing as Harvey turned to his side and pulled the blankets to his chin. His mentor was back to sleep after a few coughs and a shiver, blissfully unaware of his own suffering. But, even in his sleep, he looked miserable.

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_Author's Note: Poor Harvey...and knowing me, he's just going to get sicker and more miserable. I hope you liked the chapter. Please leave a review/comment if you can spare one!_


	4. Harvey, There's a Nightmare on Line Two

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Suits. **_

_Author's Note: Okay, first things first. As you read this chapter, just think back to the season premiere when Donna and Harvey discussed his lavender tie. Keep it in mind as you read this. I hope this is an enjoyable chapter, as I always do. Go forth and read!_

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**4. Harvey, There's a Nightmare on Line Two**

Mike had wandered back to the main rooms, leaving Harvey to sleep in peace. He wasn't quite sure what else he could do; he wasn't exactly an expert in taking care of sick, irritable bosses. He wasn't even that great at taking care of a _normal_ person. He'd just have to wait for Donna. In the meantime, the couch invited him to take a seat.

And just as he sat on the arm of the couch, a knock echoed down the entryway.

Mike practically jogged to the door, somewhat desperate for some other company. Dealing with an ill Harvey was…weird.

"How's Harvey?" she asked, pushing through the door before Mike had the chance to fully open it.

"Uh…sick, I guess? Nothing's really changed since I called you." he explained, following her long strides like a little boy. "He's sleeping now."

"Oh, good, then I can make some soup." she muttered, lifting the grocery bag in her hand to set on the counter. She also held a small duffle bag, which she unceremoniously dropped to the floor. Mike hadn't even noticed them before.

"You make soup?"

Donna gave him an exasperated look.

"Why, Mr. Ross, I am perfectly capable of making soup as well as many other delicious meals. Despite what you think, I don't actually live at the office."

She turned back to her bag of groceries, pulling out various ingredients with purpose. Mike shifted nervously where he stood, feeling out of place with idle hands.

"Now, a few things you should know about Harvey when he's sick." Donna sighed, pulling a pot out of the cupboard to set on the stovetop. "He goes through stages. First is the stage of denial, then grumpiness, then absolute misery, then happiness. He seems more cheerful when he's feeling better, that's how you know he's on the mend." She arranged her ingredients in a precise manner, carefully placing them on the kitchen island. "Usually, you can rate how sick he is based on how many stages he goes through. If it's a small cold, he barely gets past the first stage. If it's a slightly worse cold, he gets to two. But if it's really bad, he'll go through all four."

Mike furrowed his brow, wondering just how many times Harvey got sick for Donna to know all this. She sounded like she was working on a complete model to Harvey Specter's reaction to sickness. She probably could write a whole book on it.

"Well…I think he's still in the stage of grumpiness." Mike said slowly, running through the stages again in his head. Donna glanced at him as she dumped a couple large cans of chicken broth into the pot. "How will I know he's in absolute misery? He seems pretty miserable already."

Donna took a deep breath as pulled a knife out of a drawer and a cutting board, selecting a stalk of celery as her first victim.

"You'll know when he's in absolute misery. He's pathetic…in a sad way." she replied, chopping away. Mike tried to imagine what a pathetic Harvey in a sad way looked like, but it just wouldn't come to him. Harvey was the poster boy for non-pathetic behavior. Imagining him in that position was like imagining a greenish red: it was incredibly hard.

"I brought you some clothes and a few other things. I sensed that you would rather babysit Harvey in jeans than a suit." Donna said, grabbing another celery stalk to chop to death. Mike smiled gratefully, grabbing the duffle bag as he quickly unzipped it and dug through the contents. Donna had even managed to pack one of his favorite shirts. She was a goddess. It was the only proper description.

"Thanks, Donna. You're the best."

"I know." she chimed, giving him a small smile. "Now, go change." Mike swiftly headed to the bathroom, already pulling off his tie in a hurry. Suits were all fine and dandy, but Mike had always been more of a t-shirt and jeans kind of guy. He felt right in them. He felt like himself, especially after the whole lie he was living.

When he wandered back to the kitchen, Donna was dropping slices of carrots into the broth, giving Mike a small, Donna-like smile.

"You look a little worn out." she commented, continuing to slave away with her soup. Mike took a seat at the kitchen island, rolling his eyes with a shake of his head.

"I don't know why, it's not like I'm doing much while I'm here." Mike mumbled, watching Donna in her efficiency and grace.

"Well, Harvey tends to do that to people sometimes." she sighed. "Dealing with him isn't always a walk in the park. Unless you're me." Mike offered a small laugh, a grin stretching across his face.

"Of course, Donna. No one would expect less from you."

He slumped in his seat, balancing his elbows on the countertop while he dropped his chin into his hands.

"Does this thing get easier? He seems more stubborn than usual." Mike mumbled, watching Donna with a mild interest.

"The only thing that's easy with Harvey around is women." Donna replied, popping the lid off a container full of cooked bowtie noodles. "With the way this flu is going, I doubt anything is going to be easy. Although, I don't see what you have to complain about. You aren't the sick one here." Mike donned a thoughtful look. "All we really have to do is monitor that fever. Harvey doesn't really like being babied; he prefers suffering in silence when it comes to these things."

"Then why monitor his fever? If he doesn't like being babied, I doubt he'll like having his temperature checked every hour. Can't I just go home?"

Donna tossed the noodles in the pot, pursing her lips together.

"Harvey's biology doesn't do so well with fevers, especially his brain." she explained. "His body reacts badly to the high temperature. He gets…scarily out of it. Then there's the nightmares. Oh boy, the nightmares."

"So he does get nightmares." Mike confirmed, perking up immediately.

"Bad ones, I'd say. That's why we can't leave him alone. Fevers like this one are his kryptonite. Well, that and a proper malasada."

"Malasada?"

"You know, a deep-fried ball of pure deliciousness. It's like a donut, only ten times better."

Mike thought for a moment.

"And where do you get a proper one?"

Donna glanced up at him with that polite smile of hers.

"Hawaii."

Mike frowned. Of course it would be in some distant paradise.

Donna had been tossing things into the soup while they talked, dropping in chicken pieces and sprinkling in basil and salt. At one point, she'd put some garlic in; Mike was sure he'd never seen someone use a garlic press so aggressively. An appetizing smell wafted through the air, wriggling cozily through the kitchen.

"Smells good, Donna."

She raised her eyebrows with a smile.

"Of course it does."

Mike chuckled to himself, shaking his head as she stirred the concoction gracefully. She took a sip, taking a moment to really analyze the mixture.

"It's ready. Go wake Harvey up."

Mike gave her a frightened look.

"Why? Why can't you do it?"

"Because I'm dishing up the soup, since you'd probably just spill it all over the place." she replied, as if it was obvious. "Go wake him up. I'll bring his soup in soon."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going…" Mike muttered, sliding off his seat and heading towards the bedroom. He walked slow, reluctant to face Harvey at all, especially in this unusual situation. It wasn't that Harvey was scary or meaner than usual, it was just…weird that he was sick. It was even weirder that he was _waking up_ Harvey. It seemed like a very personal duty, something that Donna or Harvey's mom should do. Definitely not Mike.

He took light steps into the bedroom, approaching Harvey carefully and slowly. The poor man was speckled with sweat, his face pulled into an expression of discomfort and pain. Harvey's hands were gripped tightly to the blankets, his knuckles white and bloodless against the dark fabric. He was grumbling something in his sleep, sounding distressed and upset. Mike was suddenly _afraid _of waking Harvey. He had no clue what Harvey would do when he opened his eyes. This nightmare seemed much worse than the last, and Mike couldn't be sure if Harvey would react with the same denial as before or if the distress would linger. He certainly didn't want to deal with an upset Harvey. He didn't know how. That was the one piece of Harvey he hadn't been able to adapt to, because it just didn't exist in their professional atmosphere. Angry Harvey was easy enough to deal with and victorious Harvey was even easier. But upset Harvey was not a regular visitor. He wasn't even an irregular visitor.

"Why haven't you woken him up?" Donna hissed, carrying a tray with a single bowl and a glass of water balanced on top.

"He…looks like he's having a nightmare." Mike replied dumbly. It sounded like a worse excuse out loud than in his head.

"Then you should've woken him up right away." she sighed, setting the tray down on the bedside table. Mike moved out of the way as she leaned down closer to Harvey, shaking him gently.

"Harvey, it's just a dream." she crooned, rubbing a soothing hand on his shoulder. His eyes shot open as he took a sharp intake of breath. To Mike he looked…frightened. Harvey's breathing was shaky and his expression was one of anxiety mixed with a pinch of fear.

"It was my mother." he whispered pathetically, gazing up at Donna with a searching spark in his eyes. He was searching for reassurance and comfort. Mike didn't expect this at all. It was like he hardly knew Harvey.

"Sssh, it was just a nightmare." Donna said softly, sweeping sweaty locks of hair out of his face. "I brought you some soup and some medication for your fever." Harvey nodded, swallowing amid his irregular breathing.

Donna helped Harvey sit up as Mike watched, carefully observing the feverish glaze to Harvey's eyes and the flushed skin. Donna spoke to his mentor in soft tones and gentle words, helping him hold the bowl of soup in his shaking hands and securing the dish in his lap.

"Just eat what you can and take the two tablets on the table. I'll come back to check on you later." she told Harvey with a friendly pat on the shoulder. Mike followed her out of the room, glancing back at Harvey with worry. Donna didn't prepare him well enough for this.

"Looks like we're in stage three." Donna sighed, returning to her pot of soup to dish up a couple more bowls.

"Are you sure we shouldn't be taking him to a doctor or something?" Mike asked, dazed by the recent episode.

"Harvey hates doctors. That's the last resort."

"But, I mean, he looks bad. He looks really, really bad."

Donna gave Mike a look.

"Welcome to Harvey's life of sickness." she replied in a flat tone. Mike took his seat at the kitchen island, hunching up his shoulders at the thought of Harvey's pathetic voice.

"I don't think I've seen someone react that badly to a fever."

"Well, when he actually admits to having a nightmare, you know he's in bad shape."

Mike was quiet for a while, letting his thoughts run free as Donna set a bowl of steaming soup in front of him. It smelled delicious, but he was distracted by this utterly different side of Harvey he'd never known before. This side proved that Harvey had fears and emotions. It proved that Harvey was vulnerable and had weaknesses. It was odd that a fever could break down the defenses of one of the strongest men he knew. Now Mike understood what Donna meant when she said that Harvey would get pathetic in a sad way. His strong demeanor was simply a hard shell to cover his secrets and vulnerability.

"What happened to Harvey's mother? I mean, I'm assuming something happened to her because of the nightmare." Mike asked, picking up the spoon Donna had set beside his soup. She stopped while she dished up her own bowl, looking at Mike with a reluctant look.

"It's not really what happened to his mother." she sighed, carrying her bowl of soup to the seat beside Mike. She sat gracefully next to him, gazing ahead of her as he brain dived into thought. "It's more of what happened to Harvey and his younger brother."

Mike stopped just as he was about to put a spoonful of soup in his mouth.

"What do you mean?"

Donna gulped down a little of the soup.

"She's a mean woman, his mother. She was verbally abusive their whole lives. Harvey learned to get over it, but his little brother always took her seriously."

Mike watched Donna as she casually ate soup, trying to hide her anger and sorrow.

"Harvey has always been a protective older brother, especially because of how their mother treated them. If verbal abuse wasn't worse enough, she'd slap them around when she got angry."

Donna took another sip.

"Nothing too serious, just enough to convey that she didn't love her sons like a mother should."

Mike nodded slowly, wearing a somewhat grave expression.

"Where is she now?"

Donna swallowed a spoonful as she raised her eyebrows in casual conversation.

"To Harvey's relief, she's kind off fallen off the face of the earth. She packed up her things, got in her car and disappeared. Harvey hasn't talked to her in years, not that he minds. His brother took it hard though."

Mike ate his soup mechanically as he mulled over Harvey's history in his mind. He certainly respected Harvey, but he would've thought of _Harvey_ abandoning his mother, not the other way around. Mike didn't think of Harvey as the family type, not even as a protective older brother.

"What about his dad?" he asked, looking over at Donna. Donna could swear the kid looked like a kicked puppy.

"He wasn't exactly a regular in the lives of the Specter boys." she replied, smiling glumly. "Harvey doesn't remember too much about the guy."

Mike scooped up his soup, allowing the silence to seep in the room for a moment.

"How do you know so much about Harvey?" Mike muttered. "I mean, he seems like he keeps mostly to himself about personal things."

Donna smiled mischievously.

"Come on, Mike. Do you really think you need to ask _me_ that?"

A grin broke out on Mike's face, the muscles relieved to feel a little cheer in the heavy atmosphere.

"I've worked with the guy for a decade. Some things are bound to come to light. Besides, he wasn't always such a hard ass. That came with experience." she explained, sipping the last spoonful of soup. "He was a young kid like you once."

Mike was practically slapped with her last sentence. He hadn't thought of that. Harvey had started out small at one point. He had a mentor—even if he was a _corrupt_ one—and had worked his way up. Harvey hadn't always been on top of the world. He'd been in Mike's place once.

Maybe that was why he worked so hard to make sure Mike stayed at the firm.

* * *

_Author's Note: Wow, poor Harvey. What a sad, sick man. I'm basing my Harvey history on the "lavender tie" chat with Donna. She mentions his mother as she analyzes him and determines that he's feeling protective in a older brother way, determining that either his mother is back or Jessica found out about Mike. The mother comment was interesting to me, because he would feel protective over his brother with her return. I kind of wondered **why **he would feel **protective** with his mother around. I thought it was a juicy bit of information that I wish they had expounded on. Maybe they will later on in the show. I think I'd be thrilled to know._

_Anyway, I hope it was a good chapter. Not as much Harvey in this chapter, but just a peek at his super sickness. The soup Donna makes is actually based off my own soup I make, which originated from my days in college. I had a few things to use up in my fridge and ended up making a soup recipe that I really enjoy. Harvey's bad reaction to fevers is based off one of my friend's own experiences with fevers, but he actually gets hallucinations. I thought the nightmare aspect was better for this fic. I hope you're all enjoying the fic so far! Please leave a comment/review!_


	5. Donna, Call Richard

_Disclaimer: I don't own Suits_.

_Author's Note: Okaaaaay. Chapter five...this one has another nightmare in it, so I hope you don't mind the nightmares. Read on and let me know what you think._

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**5. Donna, Call Richard**

Donna had left Mike to finish up his soup while she checked on Harvey. She'd snatched the thermometer off the counter, walking briskly to the bedroom. Mike sipped innocently at his soup while his thoughts ran free.

Mike wondered what kind of person Harvey was before his law career. Was he rich? Was he poor? And, suddenly, Mike was imagining Harvey sitting idly on the side of the road, scruffy and bored-looking. Or maybe he was some desperate kid working in a grocery store under an oppressive boss, circles under his eyes, poor health… It was disturbingly easier to imagine after Harvey's nightmare. Or maybe he was a rich kid with his mean mother ruining every family breakfast. All sorts of scenarios ran through Mike's head, but none of them presented a solid history of Harvey Specter. Mike had never been more curious. Now, he wondered what parts of Harvey he thought he understood, but truly never knew.

"Hey, Mike. Can you help Harvey get to bathroom?" Donna asked, her head peeking from the doorway. Mike nodded, sliding off his seat and heading towards the bedroom. As he stepped in, he became cautious, unsure of what his eyes would clap on this time around.

"Harvey, what did I say? Let Mike help you." Donna scolded. Mike smirked to himself when he saw Harvey. The man was sitting on the edge of the bed, his hair sweaty, his clothes damp and an easy sway afflicting his body. He definitely looked very ill, but his face still held his stubborn attitude and a silent threat.

"I do _not_ need help to the bathroom." he hissed.

"Yeah, okay, go ahead and break your face. You know you're just going to drop to the floor like a rotten tree, don't you?" Donna replied, folding her arms and giving him a look. Harvey looked a bit like a beaten down dog. "Harvey. Mike and I are two of the few people that actually care about you. I recommend accepting our help when you need it. One of those times looks to be right about now."

Harvey was quiet for a moment, his breathing heavy, but shallow.

"Fine." he murmured. Mike took the invitation, helping Harvey up and supporting his mentor as much as he could. They slowly made their way to the bathroom while Harvey coughed and wheezed, looking miserable and pained by the whole ordeal. He let Mike help him a little ways through the door, but firmly asked for some privacy. With a glance at Donna, Mike granted the request.

The two of them stood outside the door, ready to kick it down if anything happened. It was a bit awkward, but seemingly necessary. Donna was watching Mike carefully, taking in the expressions on his face, the fidgets and the silent questions floating around his head.

"You know, you and Harvey are similar in a lot of ways, but complete opposites in others." she said, tilting her head to the side a bit. Mike frowned, puzzled by her comment.

"How do you mean?"

She shrugged a bit, looking nonchalant.

"For one, you're not afraid to ask for help." she answered. "Harvey couldn't be more ashamed of it." Mike looked over at her, confused by her sudden openness about Harvey. Any other day, she would be a box of information settled at the bottom of the sea, wound up in chains and locked tightly by her own free will. Today, she was just spilling secret Harvey all over the place.

"Why ashamed?" he asked quietly, hoping Harvey couldn't hear them. He'd be pissed if he could.

"Because it means that he's in trouble. He doesn't like being in a bad place."

Mike nodded slowly, avoiding Donna's eyes. He already knew that Harvey didn't like asking for help. It didn't necessarily mean that Harvey didn't like having help with some things, but he usually did a pretty good job of covering up his requests with a command. Mike helped him with cases all the time, but Harvey never asked, he just ordered Mike to do this and that. It looked more like delegation and less like help. For as long as Mike had known him, Harvey hadn't really _asked_ for anything. He did most everything on his own. He kept to himself and he did what needed to be done.

The bathroom door opened, revealing an irritable and unbalanced Harvey. Mike immediately took hold of his mentor, practically dragging the exhausted man back to bed. Donna looked on with pursed lips, folding her arms and leaning against the wall. She didn't like this one bit. Of course, it was helpful that Mike and Harvey had some kind of unspoken bond for each other. It certainly made things easier, since Mike was soundlessly volunteering to help in Harvey's time of need. They were much like brothers. Bantering and joking at all times of the day, but scratching each other's backs when it mattered. She couldn't hold back the smile.

"Drink your water, Harvey. You need to stay hydrated." Mike ordered as Harvey settled back into his bed. Harvey groaned and turned his back to Mike, curling up into the blankets and sheets. Mike sighed, recognizing rejection when he saw it. He might as well let the sick tiger be.

He made his way out of the room, Donna following closely behind as they left Harvey with the covers and a half-full glass of water. Mike grumbled under his breath about ungrateful bosses and stubborn lawyers, making Donna smirk behind him.

"Why don't we make the most of Harvey's giant television?" Donna suggested, putting a soft hand on Mike's back. "I'm sure he'd want us to."

Mike chuckled.

"Yeah, sure he would."

"Well, come on. We can watch _To Kill a Mockingbird. _Ooh, or maybe _Arsenic and Old Lace._ That one's a funny one." Donna offered, smiling temptingly.

"I didn't really think of you as the old movie type." Mike replied with a smile, dropping onto the couch. Donna waved a hand, dismissing his comment.

"Please, if you spend time with Harvey, then you feel obligated to watch all sorts of movies. Besides, I like to indulge in a little Gregory Peck and Cary Grant."

Mike frowned.

"You do realize those guys are from, like, the 40s, right?"

"That's why they were captured in cinematic moments. To preserve their youth." she replied, unabashed as she seated herself beside him. A sorrowful sigh followed. "I should've become an actress."

"Donna, you'll always outshine the women around you."

Donna looked at Mike, her mouth slightly open. She quickly shut it, appearing almost flustered as she fidgeted in her seat.

"Well. That's very sweet of you." she replied, turning her eyes back to Mike. "But flattery will get you nowhere."

Mike laughed quietly, looking down at his hands with an idle eye while Donna let her eyes wander around the apartment. The two of them were developing a case of boredom, the silence stretching between them.

"What was Harvey's temperature?" Mike asked, shifting his gaze back to Donna.

"Hm? Oh. One-oh-two." she replied, picking a fuzz off her dress. Mike raised his eyebrows.

"One-oh-two? Come on, Donna. He has to see a doctor." he pressed, his body stiff as he gazed worriedly at Donna.

"If it stays up there for a while, I'll call Richard." she replied, sounding almost bothered by Mike's insistence.

"Who's Richard?"

"Harvey's doctor. He makes house calls."

Mike was quiet for a moment, trying to process the fact that there were still doctors that made house calls. Well, there were paramedics, but they didn't really count.

"Hm. Fancy." he mumbled.

"Yeah, well, Harvey's a fancy guy."

The silence returned, drifting over them like a snowy blanket. The quiet brought a steady stream of thought, allowing both of them to ponder various subjects and ideas. Most of their thoughts centered on Harvey, influenced by the very atmosphere thick with his presence. Mike pressed his fingers together, the questions drowning his brain.

"Donna?"

"Hm?"

"What was Harvey like before…you know…all this?" he inquired, gesturing to the spacious apartment around them.

Donna was silent, smoothing out her dress with her eyes glued to her knees.

"He was mostly the same. Just…less confidant and quieter. Maybe more humble. Still did what he wanted, but not as shamelessly as he does now. He used to have an obvious conscious and an open heart."

Mike was trying to picture this Harvey in his head, imagining some young kid still fighting his way into the world while holding onto caution.

"It was easy to see that he'd met with a lot of resistance in life, but he still fought for the things that mattered." Donna continued. "I think that's what Jessica saw in him. She gave him a job in the mailroom and paid to get him through Harvard. Without Jessica, Harvey wouldn't even be here."

"That's why he's so loyal to Jessica."

Donna nodded.

"And that's why he fights for you." she added.

Mike couldn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. Harvey really _had_ been in his place once. That's why he kept Mike around. That's why Harvey fought so hard to get Mike to stay.

"You're a lot like he was." Donna said with a smile, giving Mike a light nudge with her shoulder. "Except much nicer, wimpier and maybe a lot smarter."

"Wimpier?"

"Come on, when things got hard you always wanted to quit. That's pretty wimpy."

Mike chuckled with a shake of his head.

"And you're saying Harvey isn't smart?"

"I never said he wasn't smart. I just said that maybe you're a lot smarter."

"Of course I am. That's a given."

"Oh, please don't adopt his ego. We have enough self-absorbed lawyers in this trio." Donna urged, rolling her eyes.

"Fine, fine." Mike laughed. "Let's just watch a movie already."

"Oki doke, just choose something while I put on my comfies."

After Donna had put on a t-shirt and sweats, the two of them popped in a randomly chosen film from Harvey's collection. It ended up being a semi-emotional film, allowing Donna a moment of overdramatic tears as she called out commands to the actors.

"No! Don't just leave her standing there! What's wrong with you?" she practically yelled, turning to Mike for some kind of support. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's a guy. Cut him some slack."

"But his error is so obvious. He just has to go back to her."

She flicked a couple of popped popcorn kernels in her mouth, her eyes glued to the screen.

"Shh, just keep watching."

To Donna's delight, it had a happy ending where everyone lived with a smile on their face and exactly where they should be—according to Donna's own musings. As the credits rolled, Donna pushed herself off the couch, hugging the popcorn bowl close to her side.

"I better check on Harvey." she sighed, setting the bowl on the kitchen counter and heading towards the bedroom. Mike stayed on the couch, reading the names of the cast as they floated to the top of the television, disappearing behind the rim of the screen. As the final letters disappeared, leaving the screen black and empty, Mike decided to see what was up with Donna and Harvey.

He turned off the television, sighing as he made his way to the bedroom. As he stepped closer to the doorway, he heard Donna's voice murmuring softly and gently, attempting to drown out shaky, heavy breaths. Mike stopped. Something had happened. Slowly, he stepped forward, standing in the doorway like an unseen ghost.

Donna had climbed on the other side of the bed, sitting on the covers as her arms wound tightly around Harvey's chest. Her cheek was pressed against the top of his head while one of her hands was gripped tightly in one of Harvey's own. A nightmare, Mike guessed. A bad dream.

Harvey looked frightened, his expression molded into complete and utter terror. Tears silently slid down his cheeks, adding a frightful shine to his eyes. Mike could tell he was trying to get a handle on his breathing, leaning back into Donna's arms for some kind of comfort. Harvey was a mess, completely shattered by a momentary deception of his slumbering brain.

"Harvey, it's okay. It was just a dream." Donna muttered, Harvey's panting almost deafening in the silence of the room.

"It was…s-so real." he whispered. He sounded so young and vulnerable, as if he had reverted back to his more youthful days. "It was my fault…My fault."

"No, Harvey. It wasn't your fault." Donna crooned, lifting her free hand to brush the hair out of his face. "Your mother was wrong. It wasn't your fault."

"But…James…"

Harvey's voice was small, merely a breath in the dark room. Mike's body was buzzing with concern, peering into the window of Harvey's past with something akin to horror.

"You were working, Harvey. There was nothing you could've done. Even if you were there, there was nothing you could've done." Donna assured him, running her fingers through his sweat-soaked locks.

Harvey continued staring off into the distance, his mother's shouts echoing in his skull. One hand was still clasped tightly to Donna's while the other had a white-knuckled grip on the blankets.

Guilty.

Harvey looked guilty.

Mike swallowed as he took the scene in, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest. Harvey was getting sicker. His body was breaking him down, taking cruel orders from his feverish brain. It was like Harvey's brain was a Pandora's box, sealed by his own health and mental capacity to repress certain emotions and memories from his past. In this fevered state, all the worst secrets were running free, wreaking havoc on their own host.

"Mike, get me a damp washcloth, would you?" Donna asked softly, her eyes strangely tender. Mike didn't wait for a second command; he headed straight to the bathroom, thinking back to his earlier investigation as he ripped open a cupboard to grab a washcloth. He ran the cloth under some water and wrung it out a little before carrying it back to Donna. She grabbed it with her free hand, wiping the sweat from Harvey's face as his shaky breath hiccupped and rasped, inviting a few coughs into the mix. All Mike could do was stand at the foot of the bed and watch, waiting as Donna calmed Harvey down and settled him back under the covers. It took a while for Harvey to grasp a pattern of regular breathing and sink back to his pillow. His lungs drew in large, slow pockets of air while his eyes began to drift closed. As he wafted into sleep, Donna and Mike couldn't help but feel relief with a little bit of fear. Harvey needed rest, but it was the worst place for him to be. Life was laughing at him, mocking his ill condition with a trick of its own. What made him better also made him worse and it was unfair.

"I'm calling Richard." Donna whispered, briskly leaving the bedroom.

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_Author's Note: Oh my. Please leave a review (since apparently they've gone back to being reviews and not comments). I'd love to know what you guys are thinking._


	6. Harvey, Just Cool Down

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Suits._**

_Author's Note: Sorry for the wait. I got a new job and all and I was just so caught up in it that I neglected this story...sorry! I hope don't disappoint anybody. I tend to take a creative license and run with it every now and then. I kind of know the feeling of when I read a fanfic that's really great and then in some later chapter it takes a turn that just seems to diminish the greatness of the fic and then I kind of get a little sad inside...So, I hope I'm not disappointing anybody. Thanks for reading so far and thanks for the patience. I hope you enjoy the chapter._

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**6. Harvey, Just Cool Down**

Mike sat on the couch, listening to Donna as she spoke with the mysterious doctor. Her voice was low, almost bent into an intimidating growl. She sounded protective…and worried. Neither of them could doubt that Harvey had taken a turn for the worst. The last nightmare definitely shook Mike into a mood of puzzlement and fear, considering that the strong Harvey that he knew and recognized had been lost in the feverish battle. Mike couldn't help but keep a focused ear on Harvey, waiting for any cry or yelp to signify another nightmare. Fortunately, there hadn't been anything for a while.

Donna grumbled a goodbye in the kitchen.

"Richard's in the Hamptons." Donna sighed irritably, walking towards Mike with slow, annoyed steps. "And, apparently, he can't seem to 'tear himself away'."

Mike was quiet, deciding if he should be disappointed or enraged. Whoever this Richard was, it was clear that he wasn't human. Or maybe just selfish. The Hamptons weren't _that_ far away.

"He didn't even bother to refer me to another physician, the nerve of the guy." Donna muttered. "I guess we'll just keep a close eye on him. But if Harvey gets even a little, bitty bit worse, I'm taking him to the hospital."

Mike nodded slowly, staring at a spec on the otherwise clean floor.

"I'm right there with you, Donna." Mike agreed, a heavy breath following his reply. She released a heavy sigh and plopped on the couch next to Mike.

"I don't like this."

Mike frowned.

"Me neither."

They sat in silence, each thinking about their recent predicament. This flu had single-handedly conquered their boss, bringing him down with a simple fever. And Harvey was no lightweight.

"What was he talking about? You know…his nightmare?" Mike asked, curiosity sizzling in his bones. He was inquisitive by nature; it was an unstoppable force.

Donna looked at Mike, a suspicious gleam in her eyes.

"I'm just curious." Mike explained. Satisfied, she turned her eyes ahead of her, staring at the wall with a dull interest.

"When Harvey was seventeen, his brother got hit by a car. He got hit by some guy running a red light."

Donna let out a sigh, sour wishes tumbling out with it.

"At the time, Harvey was working a part-time job at the convenience store and didn't find out what happened until after his shift." Donna said, her voice soft, but bitter. "His mom screamed at him for hours about how it was all his fault that James was in the hospital. I don't think Harvey ever got over that."

"Why would it be his fault? He was at work."

"Well, his mother never wanted him to have that job. She wanted both her boys home with her all the time. I suppose it was just part of her craziness."

Donna was quiet for a moment with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Although…I think it was really because James was walking to piano lessons."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Donna looked at Mike with playfully pursed lips and raised eyebrows.

"Harvey got that job to pay for James' piano lessons; their mother wouldn't pay for it. I think she figured it was Harvey's fault because James wouldn't have been out walking at all if it wasn't for those lessons. In her eyes, Harvey had put James there on that crosswalk. Almost as if he had done it on purpose."

"That's just messed up." Mike croaked, shaking his head.

"Oh, I've never met the woman and I already _loathe _her." Donna replied, frowning as she stared at the wall ahead of her. "I don't know where she got all her parenting ideas. Used to give those boys straight whiskey for their cough."

"_Straight_ whiskey?"

"Straight whiskey. I'm telling you, the woman is a lunatic."

"I never knew."

The two went silent. Donna stewed in her hatred towards Harvey's mother while Mike stewed in his own puzzlement. It never occurred to him that Harvey had a life like that. It never occurred to Mike that Harvey had a younger brother that he _willingly_ took care of. Harvey was just Harvey Specter, the best closer in New York City. He was harsh, firm, efficient, threatening, and somewhat selfish. He made lots of money. He did what he wanted. Harvey was just…Harvey to Mike. Not a brother. Not a son. Not even a friend. Harvey was Harvey all by himself. Of course, Mike liked to consider their relationship as something close to friendship, but smacking that kind of label on Harvey seemed almost immature and improper. Before all this, Mike didn't even suspect Harvey of having nightmares. To be honest, Mike sometimes questioned if Harvey slept _at all_. It certainly didn't seem like it. At least, until now.

"Can you sit with Harvey? I'm going to call Jessica." Donna said, giving Mike a look that indicated he had no choice in the matter.

"Yeah, of course." he mumbled, pushing himself up off the couch. He scratched the back of his head, shuffling towards the bedroom with a hesitant cloud over his body. Mike didn't like seeing Harvey so vulnerable; it just didn't suit his mentor.

He took a few steps into the room just as Donna chirped a greeting into her phone. Harvey was curled up into a ball again, the covers pushed up to his nose in a desperate connection to his bedding. Mike stood at the foot of the bed, staring at Harvey's sweaty locks with sympathy. Harvey had done a good job of hiding his illness in the beginning, but it had definitely grown into an unmanageable monster.

Mike took a few more steps forward, placing himself awkwardly beside the bed as he gazed at Harvey. Harvey's eyes slowly slid open, blearily looking up at Mike.

"Shouldn't you be sleeping?" Mike asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets to hide his discomfort.

"I can't." Harvey mumbled, his voice muffled against the blankets. "I don' wanna go t'sleep."

"Why not?"

"M' mom's 'n there." Harvey slurred, drunken by his hazy state.

"Harvey, you need your rest or you're never going to get better." Mike sighed, doubting his own words as they slipped out of his mouth. With the way Harvey's nightmares were going, he'd probably be worse off in slumberland than in reality.

"She doesn' want me t'get better. Never has." Harvey grumbled. He was obviously getting sleepy, but he was fighting it as much as he could. "I was her leas' fav'rite son. Still treated us both badly, but y'could tell she liked James better." His rich voice sounded blurred and lost, sinking into a bad memory with a bitter attitude. "I didn' mind tha' James was th' fav'rite. I jus' wondered why she picked fav'rites at all."

"She wasn't a good person, Harvey. It doesn't matter what she thinks."

"C'never make her proud…n'matter wha' I did…c'never make her proud…"

Harvey's eyes drifted closed, sending him into a warm slumber. Mike frowned, second-guessing if sleep really was the right remedy for all this. Obviously, Harvey's past was upsetting him, as if it had always been waiting to pounce its host; to dig its claws into Harvey's emotions.

Mike sat at the end of the bed, looking out the window at the rainy evening. It made the world seem drearier, as if matching Harvey's nightmares. Mike may have lost his parents, but he always had his grammy to take care of him and he always knew how much his mom and dad had loved him. He had someone to turn to. Harvey didn't. Or, at least, he didn't have somebody like Mike had. It explained why it was so hard for Harvey to trust and confide in anyone. He was somewhat playful and charismatic with a laid-back posture, but he kept to himself and did the most serious tasks on his own. Harvey appeared to be an open person, but he was anything but.

Donna's voice floated into the room, the words spread thinly through the air into a quiet string of sound. She was probably the only person Harvey really trusted, but Mike suspected it got that way because Donna forced it. She knew things no one else knew and understood things the rest of the world couldn't seem to. She could learn facts and information without speaking and could convey words and emotions just as silently. Donna could gain anyone's trust in a minute, but she was a perfect fit for Harvey. He didn't have to say anything for her to understand. She just knew and everything could be a silent secret between them.

"He can be a real handful when he wants to be."

Mike turned his head to look at Donna in the doorway. She stood with a hand on her hip, looking almost humored by the scene in front of her.

"I don't think that guy does anything halfway." she said with a smirk, walking further into the bedroom. "Harvey was born to be a star."

"Should've gone on Broadway." Mike mumbled, attempting a weak smile.

"I doubt he'd ever get into the whole jazz hands bit." she replied, sitting gingerly beside Mike. "But I think he'd still find a way to succeed if he had to."

"Of course. This is Harvey; he lives to win."

They both watched Harvey sleep with a worried interest. He was flushed with a plain look of discomfort on his face. His breathing was soft, full of congestion and pain as a fog of uncomfortable heat blanketed him. The fever had scraped off Harvey's shell, leaving the raw fears and emotions.

"You do realize that what happens here is between us three. You can't tell anyone about any of this." Donna whispered, her tone serious and articulate. Mike looked at her, watching the protective shadow swirl in her eyes.

"Of course." he said quietly, firmly holding her gaze. "You really get him, don't you?" Donna let out a soft spark of laughter.

"I hope so. After a decade of dealing with him day in and day out, I should know a few things about him." she grumbled playfully, smiling to herself.

Mike looked back at the slumbering Harvey. Donna followed his gaze, reaching a careful hand out to sweep the hair out of Harvey's face. Her fingertips brushed delicately across his forehead in the process, sweeping her nerve endings against his skin. He was warm. Much too warm.

She tugged a little at his blankets, trying her best to pull the material away from his body. He needed some cool air to help bring the fever down, but his grip was unnaturally tight.

"Go get me another damp washcloth, would you, Mike?" she asked softly, brushing another loose strand of hair out of Harvey's face. Mike wordlessly left the room, no doubt obliging to Donna's request. She stood from her seat and pulled gently at the blankets near Harvey's feet, pushing them away from Harvey and exposing his bare feet to the open air. Harvey shivered, curling tighter into his covers and burying part of his face in the fabric.

"Always the stubborn guy." Donna sighed, tugging the blankets a little further away from Harvey's feet. "You've got to stay cool, Harvey, and I doubt all these layers are doing you good." She could almost imagine him replying with a bored 'humor me', yet he was still digging deeper into the binds of his feverish mind, suddenly barred from proper logic. He was merely trying to find comfort and peace, most definitely in the very weaving of his bedding.

"You're a mess." Donna mumbled.

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_Author's Note: I just love the trio. I hope that was a good read. Hopefully the next chapter will come up sooner. Thanks for reading and please review to let me know what you think!_


	7. Donna, Cancel My Lunch Please

_**Disclaimer: I don't own Suits...or Jell-o. They're just involved in my story.**_

_Author's Note: Wow, another long delay. Very sorry. This is actually the final chapter. I hope it's good and enjoyable, as I usually do. Let me know what you think of my tale!_

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**7. Donna, Cancel My Lunch...Please**_  
_

_Harvey stood at the counter, a deep ache in his bones. He sniffled a little, leaning against the counter in his usual teenage slouch. He hated this job, but it was worth the misery. James had always wanted to play the piano. Hell, the kid had a knack for it. At least James' freakishly long fingers found a purpose in life._

_ Usually Harvey was pretty good at pretending he loved his job. He could smile and laugh and flirt with old ladies until kingdom come. But, today, he was feeling under the weather. He was definitely worried about James walking alone; his kid brother was a magnet for trouble sometimes. If that wasn't bad enough, Harvey was sick with some kind of wicked cold. The cough was enough to rattle his brains to dust. Of course, he was still a little hazy after the hefty shot of whiskey his mom gave him, but at least his cough wasn't as bad. He only drank it to shut his mom up. If things were difficult between them before his teen years, then things were basically catastrophic now. _

_ Harvey couldn't remember when his eyes had opened to a new approach: rebellion. For a long time it had always been silent submission and obedience. For a long time, Harvey had taught James to do whatever mom said so they could be happy; so she wouldn't yell; so they could still be fed. Of course Harvey had always protected James as much as he could. If their mom needed someone to test the milk a week after it expired, Harvey was quick to volunteer. Yet, somewhere along the road, Harvey realized that neither he nor James had to put up with her. That, as a mother, she was doing a poor job. _

_ So Harvey decided to fight for something better._

_ That's why he was here. That's why he was working part time in a convenience store with a cold, _not _walking with James and _not _having a social life. He was fighting for something better. Besides, it was a short shift anyway. He just had to charm old ladies and crabby teenagers for another fifteen minutes. Then he could go home to his she-devil of a mom and play a game of hide and seek with her. Hopefully, that's what James was doing. The kid should be home by now, but he was never much of the fighting type. James would suffer in silence to make sure that everybody kept the peace. Bah, thinking about all that just made Harvey want to get home more. James was probably doing whatever their mom told him to, and heaven knows what that entailed._

_ It was the longest fifteen minutes of his life._

_ He made it home as fast as he could, fighting back coughs and functioning on husky breathing. Harvey sniffled as he approached the front door, pausing with his hand on the knob. He always hesitated at the door. It was a habit he had since he was just a kid, like a deer wandering into the cave of a bear. _

_ Harvey twisted the knob and gingerly stepped inside, waiting for the beast to show her face. He snuck into the kitchen, opening the fridge as quietly as he could. Harvey perused the contents of the fridge with a raspy sigh, finally grabbing a can of soda and closing the fridge with a soft thud._

_ "Where have you been?"_

_ Harvey spun around, snapping open the soda as he pulled on his best nonchalant face._

_ "At work. I told you, I would be at work." he replied, looking down at the can as he flattened the metal tab. He took a sip of the soda and glanced up at his mom._

_ Harvey froze. Her expression told him something bad had happened. As a young boy, he'd learned to read her the best that he could to avoid trouble. Reading her face right now…he knew something was terribly, horribly off._

_ "What happened." he demanded, his grip suddenly tight and suffocating on the aluminum can. Her eyes were full of tears, her lips stretched into a furious frown._

_ "You did this. You did this to James." she snarled, taking heavy steps towards him. Harvey took a step back, pressing against the fridge as desperation grew in his mind._

_ "What happened?" he croaked. "Where's James?"_

_ His mom gave him a hard glare, hot tears running down her face. Harvey glanced at her hands, the fingers tightened into hard fists. _

_ "James was hit by a car." she ground out. "James was hit by a car because of _**you**._"_

_ "…What?"_

_ The soda can slipped through his fingers, the aluminum bouncing on the floor as sticky soda spilled onto the linoleum. A buzz sizzled through the air, nearly drowning out the world. Everything except his own mother._

_ "_**You** _did this to James!" she screamed. "You weren't there! You send him out to some ridiculous piano lessons and then you weren't even there!"_

_ "Mom, I had to go to work, I didn't mean—"_

_ "This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you, you selfish piece of shit." she growled, her voice low and dangerous. She didn't hit the boys often, but Harvey could swear she was going to beat the living daylights out of him._

_ "Mom, I swear, I didn't…" Harvey was close to tears now, images of a hospitalized James flashing through his mind. Maybe it was his fault. After all, it was because of him that James went out of the house at all. Then he hadn't even been there. He hadn't even been there to watch out for James, like he swore to do since James was three._

_ "Of course you meant to. You just want to hurt me. After everything I go through to take care of you and your sorry ass, you just keep trying to hurt me. How could you bring James into this?" she snarled, her eyes pooled with fire and brimstone. _

_ "Is he…is he alive?" Harvey croaked, doing his best to breathe normally. His lungs felt compressed, the very blood in his chest threatening to burst out between his ribs._

_ She pursed her lips, her eyes dark with hatred._

_ "Luckily." she growled._

_ Then she was gone. She disappeared with the kitchen, the spilled soda and the overwhelming pressure of anger. Suddenly, the world was white. A constant beeping echoed through the air as Harvey's eyes focused on lines and objects._

_ A hospital._

_ Suddenly James was lying in front of him, tucked securely into a hospital bed with hefty bandages and wires. He looked dead. Hell, his kid brother looked dead. The air became thin, like breathing through a slim straw. Harvey's chest heaved, searching for oxygen as he stared at James' pale face._

_ "This is your fault, Harvey."_

_ He spun around, his eyes frantically searching for her._

_ "You did this to James!"_

_ Harvey looked back at his brother, the air getting thinner and thinner._

_ "No, I didn't…I just…" he mumbled, his voice diminished to barely a whisper. _

_ "This is _your_ fault!"_

_ "No, no, I…"_

_ "Harvey!"_

_ "No…"_

_ "_Harvey! Wake up!"

His eyes snapped open, staring straight into Mike's.

"You were having another nightmare." Mike mumbled, his eyes flooded with frantic concern. His hands were gripped tightly to Harvey's shoulders, the pressure warm and reassuring. Harvey was gasping for breath as his lungs pulled as much oxygen out of the air as they could, his brain attempting to fight the flickering memories.

"Are you okay?" Mike asked. He loosened his grip on Harvey's shoulders, peering in to his mentor's face for any indication of bad news.

Harvey was quiet for a moment, merely trying to catch his breath as his brain attempted to return to reality.

"I'm fine." he wheezed. "I'm fine…"

Mike sighed, picking up the glass of water from the nightstand.

"Drink some of this. You're scaring the hell out of us and we need you hydrated." Mike grumbled, helping Harvey grip the glass. Harvey took it with two shaky hands, immediately gulping down a few mouthfuls to soothe his sore throat. At least it wasn't whiskey. Because that would mean she was back. He didn't want her back, especially for James' sake.

The room was silent as Harvey sipped at the water. He leaned against his pillow, gulping down mouthfuls as he listened to the rain hammering against the windows.

"What time is it?" Harvey asked, his body already starting to sink into the pillow.

"It's about two in the morning." Mike replied dully, a yawn stretching his features. "Donna's taking a nap on the couch."

Harvey snuggled back into his blankets and pillow, curling up almost immediately in the warm covers. He wasn't sleepy, he was just physically exhausted. It felt better to be a lump on the mattress than leaning against the headboard for a more dignified conversation.

"Do you remember much about your mother?" Harvey asked softly, gazing at the wall behind Mike with a storm of thoughts. Mike was quiet, a puzzled look on his face from the odd question. Harvey never asked about personal things. His mentor was the definition of impersonal. This was weird, to say the least.

"Yeah, I remember her pretty well. I wasn't that young when she died." Mike replied, watching Harvey carefully. His mentor's eyes looked hazy, a glassy fog swirling in the half-open orbs.

"I bet she was a great parent."

Mike smiled a little, remembering the soft face of his mom.

"One of the best."

Harvey was silent, his eyes still glued to the wall.

"I hated my mother."

Mike stiffened at the casual tone in Harvey's voice.

"I hated her so much."

Mike shifted in the chair he'd brought in from the kitchen. He had always wondered if there was a reason for Harvey's independence and harsh demeanor. Obviously, it was because of his mother; Mike suddenly wished he never knew. Harvey coughed a little, taking a few raspy breaths.

"The only time I made her happy was when I was miserable. She wanted me to lose at everything."

Mike didn't say anything, uncomfortable in the midst of Harvey's confession. It certainly explained why Harvey was the way he was; why he never wanted to lose. Harvey probably saw his mother in every challenge.

"She wished I was the one that got hit by that car."

Mike watched Harvey, a sorry feeling burrowing deep in his heart. Harvey didn't know what a kind mother was.

"The car that hit your brother." Mike whispered, his eyes firmly set on his mentor.

"He was in a coma for a few weeks." Harvey mumbled. "It was the worst three weeks of my life."

It was odd, Harvey talking this way. But Mike figured even one of the most powerful men in New York City would need to get something off his chest once in a while. Mike had the funny feeling Donna was the confidant of choice, yet he was still honored that Harvey trusted him enough to spill a few of his secrets to. Even if his mentor was swimming in misery.

"You okay?" Mike muttered softly, concerned by the dark look in Harvey's eyes. The man looked up at him, an unfamiliar substance in his gaze. Emotion. Real emotion. It was like Harvey's whole life was pooled in his eyes. Painful, but repairable.

"I'm fine."

Mike wasn't sure if he believed him. Yet, if anyone could take a punch in the face and stay upright, it'd be Harvey. Metaphorically speaking, that is. Mike was sure if a heavyweight champion punched Harvey in the face his mentor would drop like a rock. Not that he was making a jab at Harvey's abilities. Mike was just musing on Harvey's extraordinary strength in emotional areas.

"You don't give up until you die, kid." Harvey mumbled, his eyes already pulling him into a slumber. His voice was getting gradually softer, fading into a whisper of sighs. "You have one-hundred-forty-nine choices…when someone has a gun to your head…"

Mike guessed Harvey's favorite tactic was fight the gunman. Or maybe trick him. Then fight him when tricking didn't work.

Mike was about to reply until he realized Harvey was already asleep. The associate listened to the deep, even breaths, thinking about what it really meant to be Harvey Specter. It wasn't necessarily about winning, it was just about _not losing_. Never giving up. Doing everything you can plus a little more. Winning was just the obvious reward.

Winning meant that you'd done good.

* * *

"You eat that right now or I'm going to spoon feed you." Donna threatened. Mike looked over at a glaring Harvey beside him, the split pea soup untouched on the counter.

"I hate this stuff. It's practically baby food." Harvey grumbled, sniffling a little. He suppressed a few his coughs, but still managed to gaze intimidatingly at Donna. Of course, it hardly fazed her.

"I'm sorry, did you say something? Because all I heard was my own rage." she replied, her eyes wide with a silent warning.

"Yes, Donna, you're frightening. I get that. But I just can't develop a taste for it." Harvey grumbled, slouching as he pulled his robe tighter around him.

"This is my mother's recipe. You seemed to enjoy it just fine when she made it for you during her visit."

"I was being polite. I would much rather face you than you're father for upsetting his wife. The man was staring me down the whole time I ate it." Harvey explained bitterly.

"Yes, and I will stare you down until you eat _this_ bowl." Donna responded, her eyebrows raised casually. Harvey gave her a look. She sighed dramatically. "Fine. You have to eat this bowl. But I won't make you eat it ever again."

Mike chuckled internally. Harvey smiled a winning smile.

"You're the best, Donna."

"I know, I know…" she muttered, rolling her eyes. "I'm just glad to see you getting better."

"It was barely a cough. I didn't need to be babied." Harvey replied, sipping at his soup with a sour expression. Donna and Mike stared at him, the silence echoing with a heavy skepticism. Harvey looked between them, taking in the raised eyebrows and expectant looks.

"Okay, so maybe I had my ass handed to me by the flu." he reluctantly agreed. Donna smiled ever so slightly.

"And?" she prompted. He pursed his lips, setting his spoon down in the bowl.

"And…thanks for your help." he grumbled, the words barely audible.

"You're welcome, champ." Donna replied cheerily. "And if you eat all your soup, you can have orange jello."

Harvey looked over at Mike, obvious irritation in his features.

"I think in this situation, Harvey, there is only one safe option out of the one-hundred-forty-nine." Mike said, a mock seriousness in his voice. "As your lawyer in this case, I advise you to surrender."

Harvey groaned. Donna beamed.

Harvey was fine. That was victory enough.

Bullet dodged.

* * *

_Author's Note: Well, I hope it was a good ending. I was going to write the recovery, but i didn't really want to draw it out that long and stuff and I like it better this way, so I kind of cut it out. I hope it's still a great chapter for you guys. Let me know what you think! Thanks for reading, everybody. And thanks for your patience._


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